


Dirty Little Secrets

by why_me_why_not



Category: Suits (US TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:27:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29438238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/why_me_why_not/pseuds/why_me_why_not
Summary: Harvey calls Mike in the middle of the night with a problem. Mike helps him out. If you think Mike is an innocent woobie special snowflake, you probably don't want to read this.
Relationships: Mike Ross/Harvey Specter
Kudos: 17





	Dirty Little Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in July 2011, so really early on in the show. Inspired by the suitsmeme prompt: _WARNING FOR INTOXICATION, MURDER, AND NON-CON. Dark fic prompt. Harvey gets drunk and rapes someone (gender up to you), Mike hacks up the victim. Celebratory sex._ Saved on my laptop as "fuckingdel" for a variety of reasons. Unbetad, so all mistakes are mine. Thanks to stratospherique for encouraging my ridiculousness.

Mike thought he was over these frantic, middle-of-the-night phone calls. Normal people never had to wake up to hear a voice on the other end of the line saying "I think I killed someone," yet those familiar words were dragging Mike from sleep again. 

He almost hung up - Trevor wasn't his problem anymore - before his brain caught up with him and he realized the caller _wasn't_ Trevor. "Harvey?" 

"Who else would be calling you this time of night? Wake up, Ross, you owe me a favor." 

Mike sighed and sat up, rubbing his hand over his face and trying to determine the most probable way Harvey accidentally committed homicide. "What was it? Hit and run? You had a few too many to drink?" 

"No, it was... more intimate." Harvey didn't sound embarrassed, just terse and irritated. Mike couldn't _fix_ the problem if he didn't have all the details, but at least now he could make a guess.

"Ah, okay." Mike started a running list in his head of questions to ask and supplies he was going to need. "Where are you now?" _Please don't say your apartment_. That could be problematic. Mike had never been to Harvey's apartment, but he was pretty certain it contained security and cameras and shit. Plus, trying to dispose of the body from there... 

"Parking garage." 

"Parking garage?" Mike reached for his discarded pants and shook them until his wallet fell out. He counted out his cash and wondered if Trevor would float him some weed. He was going to need something to bride Lydia with. Again. Fuck. 

"At my apartment." Harvey was starting to sounded off, like now that he had Mike on the line he was getting hesitant or nervous or something, something Mike wasn't used to hearing from him and didn't have time for now. "She was, um."

"No, you know what, nevermind. I don't want to hear it. Put her in the car, I'll text you the address." Mike hung up before Harvey could respond, and fired off a couple texts. He was dressed - old jeans, faded t-shirt, and running shoes that he didn't mind getting messy, one of the hoodies that he loved but never seemed to get to wear these days - before he got a response, but everything fell into place. Wasn't like they hadn't been down this road before. 

At least it wasn't raining this time, Mike thought to himself on the way over to Trevor's. He left his bike at Trevor's, ignoring the sleepy smirk that accompanied the backpack Trevor gave him, and walked to Lydia's apartment to trade the backpack for a key. Harvey was going to owe him _so big_ , he didn't even know where to begin. Harvey met him at Lydia's not too long after, and Mike rolled his eyes so hard it hurt when he realized that Harvey had been driving all over the city with the body of a dead girl _in the fucking passenger seat_. Fuck, he shouldn't have had to explain _that_ part! For the sake of expediency, Mike just squeezed into the backseat and directed Harvey several blocks over, into a dark alley behind a row of shops. 

Mike ignored Harvey's questions and made Harvey carry the body on his own. Served him right. Maybe next time he'd be more careful. Once they were inside, Mike flipped on one of the overhead lights and waved his hand in the direction of the large table in the center of the room. "Strip her." He dug around until he found large trash bags and held one out to Harvey. "Put her clothes, jewelry, whatever in here. We'll burn it later." Harvey seemed to be frozen in place on the other side of the table. Mike snapped his fingers in front of Harvey's face and raised his eyebrows in question. 

"A butcher shop?" Harvey finally said, still not moving. 

"What did you expect? I was going to show up and bring the bitch back to life? Sorry, I don't know anyone skilled in necromancy. Now get her naked and get the fuck out of the way, unless you want to get blood on that stupid fucking suit." 

Mike didn't wait to make sure Harvey was complying; the kitchen had been rearranged since he was last here and it took him several minutes to locate all the tools he was going to need. He thought briefly about an apron, but he was going to end up messy either way so in the end he didn't bother. 

"You've done this before." It's not a question.

Mike shrugged. "The first time, it was a dog Trevor hit with his car." He doesn't expand on the times between then and now. "Looks like you and I have another dirty little secret. We're a regular little liars club."

"But people..."

"On average, there are between fifty and sixty _thousand_ people reported missing every _month_ in the United States. People disappear all the fucking time. About a third of them are never found." 

"You scare me." 

Mike grinned. "Good. Now shut up while I'm working." 

Harvey was quiet, which was different. Trevor was always in Mike's way, or rambling on with his paranoid theories, or generally driving Mike crazy. But Harvey was pacing, which was unnerving in it's own way. Finally Mike had to send him to wait outside. Mike finished up quickly, cleaned and locked up behind himself, and went to meet him. 

Mike caught sight of himself in the reflection of the window. His hair was sticking up, probably stiff in parts where he had unthinkingly run his fingers through it, and he had a smear of blood across his forehead to match the stray spatters across his clothes. 

Harvey was going to owe him a new hoodie and a pair of jeans. Mike mentally added it to the growing tab.

"So..." Harvey started, hands in his pockets as he leaned against the car. He still looked uncertain and Mike thought he could get used to having the upper hand between them.

"So nothing. You hit on a girl, she called you, you picked her up, it didn't work out. You dropped her off back at whatever fancy bar you picked her up at because she didn't want you to know where she lived, and you called me instead. Alibi." He paused. "You're a lawyer, Harvey. _Lie._ "

Harvey nodded, and moved like he was going to walk around the car, like they were done here. Like he didn't realize they weren't done until Mike said they were done.

"Wanna tell me what happened?" Mike had seen the marks on the girl's neck; he could take a guess. More than that, though, he wanted to see if Harvey would tell him.

"I thought you didn't want to know?"

"That was when we were wasting time." He stepped closer to Harvey, taking the time to actually look at his appearance - no jacket or tie, cuffs undone and rolled up, top couple buttons on his shirt undone, hair not perfectly in place. "I don't believe I've ever seen you looking so... disheveled."

Harvey frowned and took a step back, pressing against the car once more. Mike couldn't hold back his smirk.

"I know you like to be in control," he whispered, like it was a secret even though they both know it wasn't. "Did it make you feel powerful? Does it get you off to wrap your fingers around someone's throat, to _be in charge_." He brought his hand up to Harvey's neck, laughing when Harvey brought both his own hands up to tug at his forearm. He wasn't exerting enough pressure to do anything; any marks left by his blood-stained fingertips would wash off easily. Didn't mean he couldn't if he wanted to.

Mike slid his knee between Harvey's legs, pressing Harvey against the cool metal of the car. He could feel Harvey getting hard against his thigh and laughed again. Apparently he didn't get off on just taking charge but in having it taken from him as well. That was definitely an interesting development.

Mike shifted his hand upwards to grip Harvey's chin, tilt his head so Mike could bite his jaw, scrape his teeth over the slight stubble there and enjoy the shudder it evoked. With his other hand he made quick work of Harvey's belt and the button on his slacks. Mike had had a bit of practice, and he prided himself on his hooking up skills. Coordination when high wasn't always easy, even for a genius.

He slid his hand inside Harvey's pants, pushing the zipper down as he went, and palmed his cock through his briefs. Harvey made a small noise of appreciation or encouragement or something, and Mike felt it when he started to let his head fall back against the car so he tightened his grip to keep Harvey right where he wanted him.

"You like that?" He maneuvered so he could push Harvey's briefs down enough to free his cock, and gave it a few long, rough strokes without looking down. He was more interested in watching for Harvey's reaction. "Huh? You like me touching you, _being in charge_? Or are you thinking of _her_?"

Harvey's answer was to push his hips up into Mike's hand. Mike took this as his answer and started jerking Harvey off. He also slid his other hand back down so he could feel Harvey's pulse racing beneath his fingers, but he didn't press down, licked the side of his neck but didn't bite. It's not that he didn't want to - because _fuck_ did he want to - but they had to be in court in a few hours now and leaving marks like that wasn't likely to go over well.

Harvey's hands were still on Mike's arm, and other than a few bitten off expletives and a harsh "fuck, Mike" just before he came, he was quiet. But the stunned way he was looking at Mike after was enough to tell Mike what he needed to know - this changed things between them.

"So," Mike said casually, stepping back and lifting his hand to lick his fingers, "are you gonna suck me off here or wait 'til we get back to my place?"


End file.
